


Hell on Heels

by leigh_adams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_humpdrabbles, F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-22
Updated: 2012-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-31 14:05:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leigh_adams/pseuds/leigh_adams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaise knew better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell on Heels

Blaise knew better.

He'd been raised by Francesca Zabini, the most infamous black widow of the twentieth century. He knew all the signs of a strike; rich, older man dies shortly after marrying a young, nubile beauty, leaving her all his money. His mother had done it seven bloody times and managed to escape suspicion.

He knew better than to take a second glance at Gabrielle Delacour. She wasn't a black widow; none of her past consorts had died suddenly (though he had no desire to be the first to do so), but each paramour left her Gringotts account considerably fuller than the last.

Her Italian villa in Tuscany? Courtesy of Giovanni san Marco.

The penthouse flat on Fifth Avenue in New York City? Jeremiah Rockefeller had insisted she keep it.

She practically glittered when she moved from the diamonds that adorned her slender wrist and delicate earlobes. The sapphire at her neck matched her deep blue eyes, and her lips were the same color as her ruby ring. 

All in all, Blaise _certainly_ knew better.

That didn't mean he cared.

He quite liked the way she felt pressed up against him, those red lips slanted against his own. She would wrap her leg around his and let the tip of her stiletto heel press into his flesh; he never said so aloud, but the slight tinge of pain with his pleasure made him randy beyond belief. He _liked_ it when her gaze flashed in warning before she raked her teeth over his neck. 

When she reached for him-- somewhere? _Anywhere_ , really-- and dug her nails into his back, he couldn't say no. Blaise Zabini, the seducer of Slytherin House, reduced to a complaint boytoy by a leggy blonde in Louboutins; how his friends would _laugh_. But they could smirk and snicker all they liked-- none of them had Gabrielle Delacour in their beds.

(And none of them _would_ , if he had his way).

She was beautiful. Bewitching, with a slight otherworldly aura that spoke to her veela heritage. She didn't have to turn on her charm like other witches; it was never off. She could walk into a room and have every male clamoring for her attention, if she liked-- which she usually did. 

All Blaise knew (besides that he knew better) was that Gabrielle was hell on heels, six feet of seductive, curvaceous woman.

And she was coming for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2011 Humpathon at hp_humpdrabbles. Prompt was [Hell on Heels](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fOKtbJfNLFk) by Pistol Annies.


End file.
